


Mushy

by kashewmoo



Series: [RP] Verse with no BS - Ochi/Mouri [3]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27412588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashewmoo/pseuds/kashewmoo
Summary: Ochi and Mouri settle into their new home life and share an intimate moment.
Relationships: Mouri Jusaburou/Ochi Tsukimitsu
Series: [RP] Verse with no BS - Ochi/Mouri [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002729
Kudos: 1





	Mushy

**Author's Note:**

> Minor mention of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Days felt like weeks and weeks felt like months if not years, and yet minutes seemed to stretch into an eternity. 

In the days following Ochi’s invitation for Mouri to move in, Ochi made good on his agreement to find someone to sublet Mouri’s apartment. It wasn’t a common practice, but with some quickly drawn up documents by his attorney and the appropriate fees paid to the landlord, they were able to seal the deal with relative ease and the keys were handed over only a few days following the beginning of the month.

It was a rather unceremonious accomplishment. Mouri came with only a few boxes of personal items and otherwise didn’t have much to bring to his new home, and anything that didn’t stay in the apartment but had no use for in the condo were dropped off as donations to those in need. There was no furniture to contend with since Mouri had lucked out to find a place fully furnished to begin with, and, well, that was how cohabiting kicked off.

There wasn’t as much of an adjustment having Mouri around that Ochi would have expected given the last time he lived with another person had been his mother following his father’s passing, and living with her was a breeze, but it did make the condo feel more inviting. Unfortunately the exhaustion that came from their day to day job didn’t lend well to settling in to doing things like cooking and sharing meals together, but delivery apps sure pulled through. Save for perhaps the increased amount of physical affection shared between them, it felt the same as any other time Mouri had spent time over at his place, just in this case he didn’t go home the next morning.

It was one of those such evenings with takeout Thai (procured after Ochi gave strict direction to prepare the food with the spice level befitting of a toddler), a gentle breeze flowing through the doors to the veranda, and listening to idle chatter from Mouri that Ochi’s mind began to wander, a thoughtful look passing over his face.

Mouri’s routine had been far more disrupted than Ochi’s now that he was no longer living in a shoebox that masqueraded as a home. He had space to cook, for one, not that he did it frequently with how run ragged the both of them were. But even when he didn’t cook, he ate well - much better than he had been before. Money just wasn’t an object to Ochi in a way that Mouri couldn’t even begin to comprehend. There were far fewer late-night stops to the conbini to find whatever was on sale (not to say this had stopped completely) and he didn’t face the proposition of cold, leftover pizza and a beer for dinner nearly as often.

Though, Oomagari and Mutsu Yuuho taking it upon themselves to deliver them homemade meals was also a nice gesture that helped keep both of them fed. The last time had included one spicy dish and one not-spicy dish that were appropriately marked with a cute little pepper sticker. In the time he had known them, Mouri had never really thought of the twins as “cute” (more “weird”), but the sticker was a cute (and thoughtful) touch.

But also he didn’t complete his clearing ritual nearly as often - there was just too much to clean for it to be reasonable. He found himself spending a bit longer bathing since Ochi’s shower and bath were just nicer than the ones that Mouri had in his shoebox. He also spent more time just loafing on the couch as he tried out some of the novels that Ochi liked to read and got to have all kinds of bunny snuggles when Usagi could be convinced to part briefly with Ochi.

This being one such moment, he laid on his stomach on the ground with Usagi with his feet kicked up behind him and was in the middle of telling Ochi all of his observations about her. “Like, do bunnies ever stop twitching their noses if they are awake? I think I’ve only seen it stop when she’s asleep.”

There was something eerie about being in the middle of such a large metropolitan area with a lack of people outside. It was a good thing - Ochi wanted everyone to stay home as much as humanly possible - but it also meant that those who weren’t taking precautions or who were loitering in places that were closed to the public were more obvious, and a prime subject for attention from the police. It had been a day of kicking teenagers out of places they weren’t supposed to be and conspicuously taking out his ticket book to incite personal removal from the situation, and frankly, there was nothing in the world Ochi wanted less than to take hooligan children back to their parents.

At least those were the harmless days - at least, in the total grand scheme of the whole thing. The days when they were first respondents on the scene of an emergency were the emotionally taxing days, and there had been plenty of those.

Despite these thoughts, somehow Ochi’s attention was piqued enough by Mouri’s question to answer. “At times. If they’re startled or processing something happening around them, for example.”

“She must be pretty calm as far as bunnies go, then.” Mouri couldn’t think of a time when Usagi had startled or paused to take in her surroundings like that - then again, she was used to roaming a big space and had pretty much free run of everything with a dad who absolutely spoiled her. He had this image in his mind of rabbits being nervous, twitching creatures because of their little noses and how quick they were to scatter at the slightest provocation, but those were bunnies in the wild that had to worry about predators and weren’t even half of Usagi’s impressive size.

Mouri lowered his legs and leaned his weight onto one elbow so he could twist himself in such a way as to look up at Ochi over his shoulder. He knew that the day had taken a toll on Ochi who wasn’t especially keen on wasting their time and taxpayer money on chasing off children and a bit of that irritation was still present in his face, but he also was mellowed significantly by peanut sauce, Mouri had recently learned. Recently as in about an hour before. “Takes after her dad.”

Properly caring for a rabbit was far more work than anybody ever gave credit. As a prey animal by nature, it was important to build the trust between human and rabbit, and it wasn’t so simple as just making sure there was fresh food and water and scooping their shit. Weeks of trust building went into the relationship that Ochi had with Usagi, and he was fortunate that she was so well socialized that it didn’t bother her when there was someone else in her space who wasn’t Ochi. It didn’t hurt that she also was the size of a small dog, but rabbits were still rabbits no matter the size.

“Clearly.” Ochi crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against the couch’s plush leather. It wasn’t the first time he had been compared to his silent and very large rabbit. “It did take time, but she is very calm.”

"It paid off." Mouri wondered to himself what sort of training went into keeping and socializing a rabbit. Ochi was clearly keen on cuddling with her in quiet moments, but it had to be more than just that. He struggled to imagine Ochi attending something like puppy training for rabbits if such a thing even existed. He briefly studied Ochi’s face, deciding for certain that bunny training wasn't a thing, then turned his attention back to Usagi.

"Dad really dotes on you, huh?" He ran his hand over one of her long, fluffy ears that was at its fluffiest near the end. "Lucky girl."

It was an understatement, but Ochi wasn’t about to correct Mouri. 

“Now she’s going to have to share,” he mused, thinly veiled amusement laced in his words. “Poor Usagi.” Oh, yes, poor Usagi - she was going to suffer so much having two people there to dote upon her. Mouri had already proven several nights over that he was perfectly willing to roll around on the ground with her, and gave her just as much affection as Ochi himself did. As soon as he began giving her food, all bets were off.

"Poor Tsuki," Mouri joked in return. He somehow suspected that Usagi was living for the extra attention and Ochi was the one who suddenly had to share both of them. He played with one of Usagi’s ears, again, fiddling with the little tuft of hair at the end. She didn't seem to mind - or at least Mouri hoped she didn't mind - and stretched out her legs comfortably beside him.

Ochi didn’t know how he felt about Mouri growing a pair and dishing the sass right back, but admittedly it was one of the many reasons why Ochi was drawn to him. It went back to their discussion about fear or the lack thereof. But that didn’t mean that the sass needed to be acknowledged. “She likes that.”

Mouri was focused on Usagi, unaware of how he was being regarded by Ochi. He had so quickly become accustomed to this that it was hard to imagine what his life was like a short week before, even. He had accepted that maybe he was too social a creature to live alone and that maybe he had been spiralling to a dark place without someone looking over him at home. It was also nice to finally feel like he could be completely transparent with Ochi and like their communication had improved significantly. 

Lost in thought, he forgot to verbally acknowledge Ochi’s words.

For a few moments, Ochi didn’t interrupt, simply watching the scene fold out in front of him as Usagi made herself very comfortable. The silence was welcome, even if temporary. It gave him the opportunity to let any remaining irritation from the events of the day wash away, and instead focus on what was important: family and bunny snuggles.

Uncrossing his legs, Ochi slid off the couch to instead sit on the ground beside Mouri and Usagi, stretching out his own legs to mirror hers. Now it was clearly the best day ever for now she had double the attention, booping his fingers with her nose.

Mouri turned his head to face Ochi, unable to stop the way his heart beat like a slow march watching him give affection to the rabbit. For a man of such impressive stature, he was so gentle with his touches whether it was to Usagi’s nose or to Mouri’s hair. A giddy little thought about those soft touches rose in Mouri’s mind which he was not entirely successful in quashing before it brought heat to his cheeks and a flutter to his stomach. After doing all of that accusing of being “fast,” he wasn’t about to share that particular thought. 

He grasped for something to fill the air between them. “No one would believe me,” he managed finally, trying to relax his posture and his suddenly raging heartbeat, “if I told them you’re this mushy with her.”

If Ochi noticed the flush in Mouri’s cheek, he didn’t comment. As Usagi made herself more comfortable between them, Ochi ran the pad of his thumb over the bridge of her nose. “I’m not mushy,” he objected, though it was clearly without any true disagreement - he knew better than to fight when it came to his affection for his rabbit. 

Mouri _did_ say that no one would believe him, so why argue it? He glanced back at Ochi, taking in his features partially obscured by his hair and smiled. This self denied mush ball was, for some reason unknown to Mouri, just as mushy toward him as the bunny. "...You actually act pretty similarly toward her as me."

“Mushy” was a strange way to put it. It was true that he always had a soft spot for Mouri - whether or not it could be considered an act of mush was debatable. Instead, he took the passive route. “Am I?” As he spoke, he tilted his head enough to look back toward Mouri.

As though to prove his point, Mouri put his hand to the top of his own head and explained, "you're always touching me like this and that's how you pet her, too." To illustrate, he moved his hand to stroke over Usagi’s head. "And you tell us both things you don't tell others, feed us, give us a home…"

Putting it that way, it was the truth. There were very few people - or creatures - who Ochi did confide in, and outside of his mother or Akutagawa, Mouri and Usagi were the two primary sources of communication or affection. Ochi wasn’t sure about the direct comparison to the rabbit, he thought the way he interacted with both of them were at least a bit unique, but maybe it was his overall demeanor that made it seem that way.

And, well, Mouri demonstrated accurate points.

“I wouldn’t call you my pet, however,” he pointed out with a twinge of amusement in his voice. “She does hold that title.”

Mouri’s mouth set in a line. Sure, he was making a joke about the bunny, but Ochi had reminded him of their previous debate over what to call the relationship as well as how to label their relationship with one another. Mouri thought that "dating" sounded wrong, and "boyfriend" sounded juvenile, but Ochi thought he was ascribing too much meaning to words. 

"Because 'partner' will suffice," Mouri joked flatly in return knowing full well what he was opening himself up to by saying it.

To Ochi’s point, it seemed like arguing pedantics. At its core, when one person agreed to be in a relationship with another person, the word “dating” was accurate regardless of any connotation it may have based on their societal expectations. He wasn’t particularly married to any one word to describe their relationship - at the end of the day it didn’t matter - but riling Mouri up about this one particular thing was admittedly quite amusing, for as stupid as the conversation had been when it was happening.

“Partner,” on the other hand, did have a connotation or an implication that there was something long term. Ochi felt that was on the same level as “spouse,” and wouldn’t that therefore be at the aforementioned fast pace that Mouri so helpfully pointed out however many days earlier?

“That seems a bit fast,” he said with the smallest quirk of his brow. “I would think.”

"Are we talking about me or Usagi?" Mouri reached over to brush Ochi’s hair away from his face so he could see his eyes. If there was one infuriating thing about Ochi, it was that he was just as much of a Hyoutei student as the rest of them and from Mouri’s experience, all of the stereotypes held. You went to Hyoutei because you had the money to pick a school based on uniform and pay someone off if your test scores weren't high enough.

He would never say that last part aloud, of course, but the bias that was drilled into him from his years at Rikkai was at odds with his genuine admiration for Ochi. 

Ochi’s expression relaxed as the hair was brushed away from his eyes and he met Mouri’s gaze. It was an automatic reaction whenever his face was exposed when it wasn’t of his own volition, though it always confused people when they caught him with his hair pinned out of his face.

As a teenager, it had been a point of contention with his father. Despite the fact his hair was naturally platinum, there was pressure from the school to conform to the uniform rules - that is, until a certain golden blonde haired, bright blue eye boy rolled into the middle school division when Ochi was in his first year of high school. But prior to that, a diligent rule breaker when it suited him, Ochi used his dad’s credit card to put electric color in his hair for shits and giggles when he himself was in middle school, and it started a trend that lingered long after he graduated. When it turned into dyeing his hair in addition to growing it so long that you couldn’t see his face, well, his father especially didn’t like that. Ever so supportive, his mother’s only comment was that she missed seeing his pretty eyes.

Over his adult years, the enjoyment of keeping his hair long and coloured hadn’t waned, though unlike at Hyoutei where he wasn’t afraid to bend and mold the rules to suit his needs, he very closely toed the line of what was acceptable in the police force, and he didn’t doubt there was some hand waving to appease the higher ups given his skill.

Slightly tilting his head toward Mouri’s hand, he asked, “Isn’t it obvious?”

With a faint smile, Mouri leaned closer. He was normally one to answer in words, but this one time that didn’t seem like the proper course. He gave Ochi a soft kiss, his hand lingering near his jaw to keep his hair away from his eyes. They could argue about semantics until they were both blue in the face (more so than Ochi already was), but the important thing wasn’t what they were to one another or what it was called, but what it meant.

Ah, so now it was too many words, but that suited Ochi just fine. Just as gently he returned the kiss, moving his hand to rest on the back of Mouri’s neck beneath loose red curls. Kissing had become quite natural in what short amount of time had passed since their first, and sharing a living situation hadn’t complicated things any, either. Ochi was glad for it, his life was complicated enough without complications in his personal romantic relationships, but it felt just as natural as kissing.

He felt silly and childish for it, but Mouri couldn’t help the little flutters in his stomach when Ochi was close like this. Ochi wasn’t an especially warm or cuddly person, but he gave off this aura of protection that made Mouri feel safe whenever he held him close. He didn’t hesitate to put himself in the line of fire for others, something that Mouri really admired about him and wanted to emulate as a police officer.

All of his goofy little thoughts culminated in Mouri moving away from the kiss, casting his eyes downward to avoid looking into Ochi’s eyes. 

Quietly, Ochi regarded Mouri’s expression. It was easy to tell what was on his mind - time spent learning one another’s habits on the tennis court, years of friendship, and now years of partnership in the police force had made Mouri all but an open book, and though it was clear that a level of verbal communication was yet needed, these sorts of moments made Ochi appreciate that he did know and understand Mouri on an intimate level that not many had seemed to accomplish.

Ochi let his fingertips graze the back of Mouri’s neck as he drew it away to tuck a stray curl behind Mouri’s ear. His hair was getting quite long - it was only a matter of time before quarantine haircuts kicked in - and Ochi found himself quite drawn to it. He didn’t break the silence, simply choosing to continue to watch him closely as his fingers explored warm skin.

The touch raised geeseflesh on Mouri's neck and his eyelids drooped heavily. It wasn't unusual for Ochi to put a hand to his hair, it was one of the ways he commonly showed affection. The part that was unusual was how all Mouri could think about were those long fingers in his hair and on his skin. He didn't know how to say that in words in a way that wouldn't sound stupid, but… "it's nice how you dote on me."

Once more, Ochi tucked another curl behind Mouri’s ear, unintentionally dislodging the other to where both fell back into his face. It would be a lie to say that watching the gentle shifts in Mouri’s expression, in particular as his eyes exposed all what he was feeling, didn’t cause what might as well have been a skip in his heartbeat. It wasn’t flutters - he was no child - but there was no denying that any attraction was far from one sided.

“I’m glad,” he said quietly as deft fingers crept down Mouri’s cheek to slide back and gently cup his jaw. His skin was warm beneath his palm, another giveaway for the thoughts on Mouri’s mind. “I enjoy it.”

Suddenly bold, Mouri’s spine straightened and he lifted his hand to move Ochi’s hair away from his eyes, again. He really needed to just get this guy some clips (though he knew Ochi liked it this way). “You…” His hand lingered near Ochi’s face, his fingers just gently brushing his cheek. “You must like this, too, though, right?” It seemed like it was always Ochi touching him like this - Mouri might like to show affection in other ways, but for a dude who was so tall it had to be nice to have someone touch his face, right?

And he did. Admittedly, it was actually quite nice indeed to receive any physical touch whatsoever. His height didn’t lend well to casual, friendly touch between friends, and though his mother was tall herself, the height discrepancy was still as such that it felt more like he was hugging her rather than the other way around. That, and any touch with a romantic undertone hadn’t been part of his life for years, and so he had just grown accustomed to never really having that as part of his recent life.

“I do,” he confirmed, tilting his head toward the touch, resting his cheek against his fingers.

Mouri shifted around so he could move to sit on Ochi’s lap which leveraged him better to have access. He knew his cheeks were burning, but he calmly continued to push his fingers through Ochi’s hair hanging over his face. He wondered what other sorts of things Ochi had never been able to experience just due to his sheer size - like having someone else hold him or resting his head in someone’s lap while he slept. “What else?” He asked, not really clarifying what he meant.

“What else?” Ochi echoed, settling his arms low around Mouri’s waist. There were a multitude of things that Mouri could be referring to, but it didn’t seem appropriate to assume - though the man straddling his lap was certainly welcome. “Do you mean what else do I like?”

“...Uh, no.” Mouri, faced with the fact that he hadn’t actually vocalized his thoughts and now he was going to have to in order to answer Ochi’s inquiry. “More like… is there anything you want that you wouldn’t be able to have if it wasn’t… me?” That made it worse. He was certain that made it worse.

For all of those warm and fuzzy thoughts about intuitively knowing Mouri without him having to say a word, well, apparently he was thinking that too early. Did he mean that because of the romantic entanglement was there something that he wanted that came with that? Or was it specifically because it was Mouri? Something that maybe because he was strong and broad whereas many others in his life just… weren’t?

A bit absently, Ochi slid his hands apart across Mouri’s lower back to rest on his hips instead. “Do you mind clarifying what you mean?”

Intuitively, Mouri shifted a bit as Ochi’s hands moved, and his own hands found their way to Ochi’s shoulders before dropping loosely over his back. “Well… I can’t say it without potentially saying something kinda rude.” But it wasn’t like Ochi didn’t know that he was tall. Like, he was aware. “Just… my stature is a bit more comparable to yours than most people. I was thinking it was probably nice.”

Ah. So it was the latter. Ochi didn’t find it particularly rude - it wasn’t as though it was news to him that he was tall - but he understood why Mouri would be hesitant to not make it seem that he was pointing a flashing blinder to it or something. “It is nice in that I’m not concerned that I could hurt you.” If anything, it could be the other way around - Ochi would forever be a beanpole no matter how much he trained or lifted weights.

Hurt? No, Ochi was going to have to work pretty hard to hurt Mouri, he was a big, solid dude. “Ah - are you planning on throwing me around, Tsuki?” he teased. Despite Mouri’s weight, he knew that Ochi could (and would) pick him up - it had happened before. Despite his slender frame, Ochi was very strong.

Ochi chuckled. “Would you like to be thrown around, Jusaburou?”

“A-Ah…” Mouri laughed nervously, his mind definitely diving to places that Ochi may or may not have intended. “Maybe if we’re practicing Judo at work, but… maybe a bit more gentle than that the rest of the time.” As though Ochi were not always the most gentle person he knew.

Another low chuckle rumbled between them, Ochi adjusting his hands to rest further up Mouri’s sides. “I can do that.” It was a new position for them, Mouri sitting on his lap, but Ochi found that he quite enjoyed the solid weight - another reminder of the strength that Mouri possessed.

After a moment's pause, Mouri ducked his head down for another kiss. Even just not craving his neck had to be nice for Ochi (it was for Mouri who was pretty accustomed to being much taller, or in Ochi’s case much shorter). "Is that all?" He asked softly. "Just good to not worry about hurting me?"

Ochi’s eyes fell closed at the kiss and remained close even as Mouri moved away enough to speak. For a lingering moment he gave that consideration, choosing his words wisely before he decided that there was no need for words at all. Instead, he leaned forward to find Mouri’s lips with his own once more, settling his hands this time beneath Mouri’s shirt on bare skin. 

It was instant - the kiss and the hands on his back flipped some switch in Mouri’s brain from thinking to reacting. His eyes also fell closed and a sound bubbled up from his throat to encourage Ochi. The fingers of one hand tangled up in Ochi’s hair, the other settling on his shoulder to keep stable.

Somehow, Ochi hadn’t expected Mouri to be quite so vocal in his appreciation of kissing. Much like how he preferred actions to words, Ochi himself wasn’t one to make much sound at all, though there was no lack of appreciation in his own right as he pulled Mouri flush against him to give Mouri exactly what he wanted. 

Mouri’s hips shifted again to adjust to the new position and another soft sound escaped him. He tried to reign in the urgency that was surging in his mind, but his fingers tightened in Ochi's hair betraying his thoughts.

That was all the encouragement Ochi needed. As though the bottle had been uncorked once more, Ochi’s hands freely explored Mouri’s back, memorizing each line of muscle protecting his spine as he met Mouri’s urgency in staccato kisses that betrayed Ochi’s own thoughts. Ochi had seen Mouri shirtless countless of times between tennis and work, shared times in the shower surprisingly common for two who only recently began a romantic entanglement, but seeing his impressive body was nothing compared to enjoying it beneath his palms.

Similarly, Mouri needed little more prompting to move his hands between them, lifting the hem of Ochi’s shirt to slide his hands up over his stomach. All of Ochi was long, he was just not a small guy, but his abdomen seemed to stretch forever before Mouri’s hands finally found the base of his ribcage, Ochi’s shirt now tugging against his wrists. He let out a small noise of protest, tugging gently with his hands, but made no effort to stop kissing Ochi to actually get what he wanted.

The barest of smiles graced Ochi’s lips into the kiss as Mouri struggled with the shirt trapped between them, though he didn’t let Mouri go from the kiss until they were both left a bit breathless from the effort of maintaining the pace. Desire bubbled deep within him, a feeling that had lay dormant for far too long, and Ochi finally gave in to Mouri’s own wishes to discard his shirt.

A bit reluctant to put space between them and remove his hands from Mouri’s back, Ochi leaned far enough back that he could pull the shirt up over his head, catching his hair within the neckline that unsettled his hair from how Mouri’s fingers had fiddled it, and dropping it somewhere in the general vicinity of the couch. Before the shirt had even fully settled on the floor, he leaned in to capture Mouri’s lips once more.

Mouri’s brow furrowed and he moaned softly as Ochi pulled them together again - it was almost a relief even after the briefest of moments apart. His thoughts were chugging along half a step slower than normal and all he could seem to handle was continuing to explore Ochi with his hands. It was one thing to snuggle him, even snuggle naked as they in fact had done in the bath, and another entirely to be invited to touch his skin.

Upon further consideration - absent consideration, mind - Ochi quite enjoyed the audible reaction he incited from Mouri. And, unlike Mouri whose thoughts were chugging along at half speed, Ochi’s were like they were on overdrive - wandering in the direction of what they could experience together and all of the places he could put his lips to hear more of him.

As though to demonstrate just that, Ochi broke the kiss to instead explore Mouri’s jaw, carefully making his way toward his ear, while his hands slowly inched Mouri’s shirt away from his abdomen.

Each touch of Ochi’s lips elicited another small reaction and Mouri’s toes curled tightly. He could feel the muscles of his abdomen clench between the kisses and the way Ochi’s hands were flitting over his skin. His head tilted back a bit away from the kisses, but to give Ochi more to explore. 

Ochi knew himself to be calm and rational not just when it came to everyday situations, but also when it came to physical matters, taking his time to find all the different places on his partner’s body that felt nice, and slowly memorizing all the ways to bring them pleasure. Yet with the way that Mouri shifted ever so slightly against him and reacted with an enthusiasm that Ochi didn’t expect, Ochi wasn’t so sure that composure could be contained as tightly as it normally was.

With easier access to Mouri’s ear and neck, Ochi gently grazed the curl of his ear with his lips, continuing to push Mouri’s shirt off his torso, and with a surprising amount of ease given the state Mouri was in, forcing his arms up gently to remove it completely. Mouri’s shirt soon joined Ochi’s on the ground and he made his way to Mouri’s neck instead with open mouthed kisses.

Mouri found himself caught between wanting to kiss Ochi again and wanting his lips to be everywhere on him - where they were now was a good start. His eyes fell closed and he found himself trying to return little kisses to Ochi’s hair or forehead at each open opportunity. His hands made another path over Ochi’s abdomen hesitating over his lower abdomen where he had something that Mouri just… didn’t. It was fine to the touch, but there was a bit of hair that ran down from Ochi’s navel down under his beltline that he couldn’t help but stroke curiously. 

Between the kisses to his hair and face, the gentle exploration of the delicate skin of Mouri’s neck, and Mouri’s fingers that found his lower abdomen, Ochi’s eyes fell closed, pausing in his movements to take in a deep breath against Mouri’s pulse. He wouldn’t consider it a particularly sensitive area on his body, yet Mouri’s touch stirred a part of himself that he hadn’t opened up to anyone in a long time.

“That feels nice,” he said in a low voice, his nose brushing against Mouri’s Adam’s apple as he spoke, trailing his hands down Mouri’s chest now that he had easier access to his skin.

The words caught Mouri a bit off guard, his hand hesitating over Ochi’s stomach as he processed them. He liked this clear communication he was suddenly getting from Ochi that he normally had to at least partially drag out of him kicking and screaming. More confidently, his hands passed over Ochi’s abdomen again, this time his fingers dipping below his beltline in search of the more sensitive skin adjacent to his hipbones. He hummed in agreement.

Confidence was hot. There could be a thing as too much confidence, teetering toward the side of arrogance, but Ochi had always been drawn to people who were confident in their actions and words. Mouri had always possessed that confidence that Ochi was so drawn toward - it manifested in the way he played tennis, and the absolute certainty he possessed when speaking of those he cared for.

There were many reasons why Ochi adored Mouri, but his confidence was something that he thought suited Mouri quite well.

For a moment he enjoyed the focused attention, rolling his head to the side to tuck his face into the crook of Mouri’s neck, his hands lazily winding up into Mouri’s hair to twist stray curls around his fingers. The lingering scent of what was certainly Ochi’s body wash brought a faint smile to his lips buried against warm skin.

Mouri’s mind was focused, again, his thoughts finally catching up to full speed. “Hey, Tsuki?” he said softly into his hair.

It was muffled, but Ochi made a questioning sound in his throat to indicate that he was listening.

“...Take me upstairs?”

Ochi drew away enough to meet Mouri’s eyes, warmth dancing in blue eyes though his expression was otherwise calm. “Would you like me to carry you?”

“...That’s kinda hot.” Mouri laughed, shifting so he could wrap his legs around Ochi. “Do you think you could carry me like this?”

It wasn’t a matter whether or not Ochi had the strength to carry Mouri - he certainly did - but though Mouri was far closer to his height than anyone else could ever hope to achieve, there was no changing the fact that Mouri was just big, and picking him up from their mutual position would require every core muscle that Ochi had on his body.

But, never one to back down from a challenge, he agreed, “Yes.”

It took a bit of careful maneuvering to get himself up to a half standing position, supporting Mouri’s weight in the crook of his arms, and another push of strength to get himself to his feet. Once his back was straight, it was actually quite comfortable - not something he could maintain forever, but it’d be easy enough to get him up the stairs. “There.”

Not sure what he expected, Mouri just silently nodded to praise Ochi’s feat of strength and wrapped himself tighter to make Ochi’s job of carrying him more manageable. He couldn’t do much about the weight, but he could make the bulk less cumbersome. He tucked his face into Ochi’s neck and said, “Okay, you’re impressing me right now.”

“So. You would enjoy being thrown around,” he teased deadpan with a straight face as he made his way up the stairs. He was learning all sorts of things, today.

“Oh my god, Tsuki,” Mouri grumbled, but didn’t deny that was exactly what he was asking for.


End file.
